This is where I learned how to drive–in Southern Vermont. There is no lack of curvy, winding roads in my former stomping grounds. And so I approached the learning process with fear, trepidation — and a little excitement. My dad told me, when he first started teaching me to drive, that he wanted to make sure I knew how to drive the curves. And he did. And, I loved it.

I still love to drive the curves–in Vermont. The curvy, winding roads of life, however? Not so much. I’m not wishing for a bunch of perfectly straight roads-that actually sounds boring. But at times, I’d like to have a bit more variety, and not so much curve.

As I write this, I can’t help but think of those in my circle of friends and family who are currently on a stretch of really hard curves. Illness, medical procedures up the wazoo, loss… lots of loss… death of loved ones, depression, strained relationships, lack of adequate finances, feeling utterly overwhelmed. It all can feel a bit out-of-control, much like driving too fast on a curvy road.

One of the things my dad taught me, about driving in Vermont, is that you don’t put the brakes on very much as you approach a curve. Obviously, if the situation warrants it, brake! But if you’re driving at the normal speed, and it’s a normal curve, keep driving into it. Don’t give it too much gas, don’t give it much brake… keep driving.

Easier on a Vermont road than on the road of life. And yet, I also have learned that–for the most part–one has to drive into the winding roads of life as well. Even when we change direction, even when we pull over at rest stops, even when we have to stop and fix a tire, switch drivers, whatever… we still need to get back into the car and drive into the rest of the trip. It takes more guts and white knuckles than I think I have, most of the time. But thanks be to God for his strength, for the Holy Spirit’s guidance, for the love and grace of Jesus Christ… and for the community of faith, that helps sustain.

Isaiah 43:19: “… I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert…” Far from the original intention, I’m pretty sure…

Sun., March 14th

but I was tired, I was really really tired.. I was later than I wanted to be, on my way to Pilgrim Pines. The GPS was driving me nuts, and I was driving it nuts. I had to keep pulling over to turn on the light and look at my google map…. and then once I entered New Hampshire, I had to stop the car, turn the brights on, and read the signs, to make sure I was going the right direction. When I finally stopped at this signage, I thought I knew what it said, but just to make sure, I turned on the brights. Then took the picture. The way in the wilderness… the wilderness of a long day, a long drive, a long drive after a bad fibromyalgia flare-up that almost kept me home. And the welcome way in this wilderness, pointing me in the direction of Swanzey Lake, and Pilgrim Pines. Where I met up with my clergy women friends of the East Coast Conference.

We’re here. We left Madison on Dec. 28th, left Chicago on the 29th, arrived in Harleysville, PA on the 30th. A great welcoming crew was here, waiting for us and the moving trucks. It’s so surreal, and yet strangely normal, to arrive at your new home, your new town, your new church. The few days have become a blur, and should be blogged at some point, but tonight I’m just happy to even get some pictures on the blog! So, more later. pictures now.

There are two reasons to suspect the end of the world is near: First, I’m finally posting again, after a long break. And second, I made a cake from scratch this summer. But in case neither of these leads to the world’s end, I’ll continue. And since so much has gone on in the past two months, I’ll resort to summarizing.